


Novel Ideas

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: This was supposed to be funnier, but it got pretty sappy and fluffy? Sorry, I guess?I had a friend translate the passages into Spanish, so I'll include what they're supposed to be in English in a note at the end. For some reason, Google Translate was struggling with the pronouns.
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Olivia Benson, Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 84





	Novel Ideas

She sighed and he offered a small smile. He knew what she was going to say, she could see it in his eyes and the wistful turn of his lips. “It’s late,” she said anyway.

“Yes,” he agreed, looking down at his glass. He’d finished the last of his scotch.

They were sitting close—closer than she’d realized. His arm and leg were warm against hers. She knew she’d had too much to drink, and she knew she’d stayed too long. It was so rare to have a night to herself, and she’d let herself get swept up in the laughter and liquor and easy conversation.

She didn’t see him as much as she’d like anymore, and she tried to prolong each and every moment.

“I should get a cab and come back for my car in the morning.”

“Mm,” he said, which wasn’t an opinion one way or the other. She leaned forward to set her empty glass on his coffee table. “You could stay,” he said quietly, and she felt a warm flutter in her stomach. She looked back at him. He met her eyes from under his lashes. “It’s late,” he reminded her.

“It is.”

“Noah’s not home.” He paused, glanced down at his glass and back up to her face. “You can take the bed, I’ll sleep out here. I’m sure I have something you can wear.”

“Does it have suspenders?”

He laughed quietly. “No sense making an extra trip,” he said after a moment.

“Hmm,” she answered. “It would be easier. If I wouldn’t be imposing.”

He gave her a gentle eyeroll and a gentler smile. “Don’t be absurd.”

She laughed, because she couldn’t remember if she’d ever heard anyone use the word _absurd_ in casual conversation. And because she was feeling a tad giddy from the alcohol, and far too cozy with him on the sofa.

As though reading her mind, he pushed himself up to his feet. He put a hand to his lower back and stretched, grimacing. They’d been sitting for a long time. “You can check through the middle dresser drawer,” he said on a yawn. “Anything that passes for pajamas is in there.” He bent and grabbed her empty glass, looking sideways at her. “I have mine in the bathroom, so you can use whatever you want.”

“Thanks,” she said, briefly hypnotized by the play of light in his eyes.

“Do you want me to change the sheets?”

“What?” She blinked, trying to clear her head. Maybe she was drunker than she’d realized.

He straightened with the empty glasses in his hands and looked down at her. “I changed them Sunday. If you want, I can—”

“Oh. No, it’s fine.” She got to her feet as steadily as she could. “Unless you’ve been—” She pressed her lips together to shut herself up.

“No.” He smiled, but there was a bit of a glint in his gaze. “But there are fresh pillowcases and whatnot in the trunk if you need.”

“Thanks.”

“You can use the bathroom first. There’s a new toothbrush in the drawer.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on the couch? I can sleep here if you want.”

“I may be a feminist but I’m also a gentleman,” he said, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the exaggeratedly-lofty look he gave her. He shifted his weight, fidgeting with the glasses for a moment. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she repeated.

“Goodnight, Liv,” he said. He bent toward her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her breath caught at the soft touch of his lips. He drew back slowly, catching her gaze.

“Goodnight,” she managed.

He smiled and turned away, heading toward the kitchen, and she drew a quick breath to steady herself before starting for the bathroom.

* * *

She found a pair of soft sweatpants and an old t-shirt and pulled them on, folding her clothes into the chair for morning. She’d closed the door while changing, but she walked over and cracked it when she was decent. She could hear him in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and she smiled as she crossed to the bed.

She plugged her phone into his charger and set it on the bedside table before sitting on the edge of the mattress. She knew he had at least three other chargers around the apartment. Like having a spare toothbrush, he was always prepared.

She smiled again at the thought and looked around his room. It felt like him, although she couldn’t put that feeling into words. All she knew was that it was comforting and familiar.

She pushed the blankets further back and turned, drawing her legs onto the bed. She reached back to adjust the pillow and frowned as she felt something shift underneath. She flipped the pillow back to reveal a paperback book. She picked it up, her frown momentarily deepening in confusion. Realization was slow to dawn in her slightly-impaired brain, and then she made a small sound that was almost a laugh.

From the other room, she heard a faint: “ _Shit_.” Then, a few seconds later there was a light knock on the door. “Hey, Liv? Are you…” The door slipped further open and she saw his face appear in the gap. “Dressed?” he said. His gaze slipped from her face to the book in her hands and his shoulders seemed to sag. “May I?” he asked as he pushed the door wider, and she nodded as he stepped into the bedroom.

She held up the book so he could see the cover. “ _The Princess Who Tamed the Pirate_?” she asked.

By the light of the lamp she could see the dark flush of color that had crept up into his face. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. He needed to be tamed, frankly.”

She uttered a surprised laugh that sound so close to hysterics that she clapped a hand over her mouth in alarm. “I’m sorry,” she said into her palm.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his flannel pants. “Laugh if you will,” he told her. He was trying to appear unbothered but his flaming cheeks betrayed him. “It’s not as bad as you’d think.”

She lowered her hand. “No, I’m sure,” she agreed, trying desperately to keep a straight face. “It has…a descriptive title. And…pretty explicit cover art…”

“Alright,” he said, stepping forward and holding out a hand. “Well, I’ll just get it out of your way.”

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “I really don’t mean to—I just don’t understand, your bookshelves are full of…of Moby Dick and…other things I can’t think of right now, but—”

“I used to read them to my grandmother,” he said. “Romance novels?” He saw her eyebrows go up and he grimaced, saying, “It’s not what—She didn’t speak much English when I was young. Well, she understood more than she liked to let on, but…it wasn’t easy to get—” He gestured toward the book. “—in Spanish, so she’d have me translate them to her…”

“That sounds sweet,” she said. He peered at her, trying to determine whether or not she was being sincere. “How old were you?”

He shrugged, and there was a little defensiveness in the gesture. “Ten. Twelve.” He glanced away for a moment before lifting his chin and forcing his eyes back to hers. “She’d always have me skip over the…more inappropriate parts, but eventually my curiosity got the best of me and I started sneaking them up to my room. She put an end to our reading sessions.”

“Did you…” She looked down at the book and back at his face, and now her cheeks had grown warm, too.

He cocked an eyebrow. “I was an adolescent boy, and it’s not like my father had Playboys in the house. I learned a lot from these books.”

She laughed again, relieved to see that his lips were finally showing a hint of amusement. “And are you still learning?”

“Man’s thirst for knowledge is unquenchable, Olivia,” he intoned, and his face split into a sheepish smile at her laugh. He shrugged a shoulder. He cleared his throat. “Disappointed in me?” he asked quietly.

“Never,” she answered, and she saw his expression soften in relief. She looked down at the book and flipped it open. In her peripheral vision, she saw him start to lift a hand and then drop it back to his side. “No bookmark,” she said.

“I’m on page 287.”

She glanced up at him, then back at the book. She found his page and looked it over. “Can I get a demonstration?” she asked.

“Demonstration?” he repeated hesitantly.

“Of your translating skills.”

“My…skills have improved.”

She raised her eyebrows at him and gestured toward the bed beside her. He wiped his palms on his thighs and, after a moment’s consideration, walked over and sat next to her. She read aloud: “The gentle sway of the sea was soothing, but all of her senses were captured by the man beside her.”

“ _El vaivén del mar era tranquilizante pero todos sus sentidos los poseía el hombre a su lado_ ,” he said. He looked sideways at her.

“That’s pretty.” She turned to a random page further along. “You mind if I spoil the plot for you?”

“I’ve read it before.”

She shot him a smile and turned the book toward him, pointing randomly at a paragraph. He looked down and swallowed. He reached up to take the book from her hands, his fingers brushing hers.

“Um,” he said. He shifted and cleared his throat again. “ _Ella deslizó su mano sobre su muslo_ …” He looked down when she laid a light hand on his leg and slid it slowly up his thigh. He licked his lips and glanced at her. She reached over with her other hand and pointed again without looking at the words. “ _Besó una trayectoria por su cuello hasta mordisquearla la oreja_.”

She leaned close, her warm breath fanning his ear. “Do you mind?” she asked quietly, and he shook his head. She ducked her head and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. He tipped his head automatically, letting out a soft breath. She trailed light kisses up to his earlobe and pulled it into her mouth, gently working it between her teeth. “What’s next?” she whispered, and a shiver passed through him.

He looked down and tried to focus on the words. “He—Christ. _Se viró, abriéndole el_ _corpiño_ …”

“I don’t know that word.” She leaned into him to see the page and he pointed at the line. “I’m not wearing a bodice,” she murmured, and he turned his head toward her. Their lips were close, so close that they could smell the toothpaste on each other’s breath. They could see the flecks of gold in each other’s eyes.

“No,” he agreed, and his gaze slipped involuntarily downward.

“We could probably go…off-script,” she suggested.

“I…” He looked at the book. “It’s not about the sex, although I won’t say that wasn’t always a draw. They, you know. Argue, fight. Yell. But they always…”

“Nothing wrong with passion.”

His lips quirked into a small smile. “They live happily ever after,” he said.

“Do you think that’s possible?”

He turned his face toward her again, his eyes flicking down to her mouth a moment before his lips brushed against hers. She pressed herself closer, inviting him in, and he lifted a hand to her face. “Liv,” he breathed against her lips.

“Yes.”

“We’ve had a lot to drink,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.

“Not that much,” she answered, and he drew back far enough to look at her. She smiled. “But, I know.”

He sighed and hesitated before leaning in for another soft kiss. His hand slipped down into the hollow of her shoulder and he fingered her hair. “Liv.”

“I know,” she repeated. She kissed him again, letting her lips linger against his while their tongues met tentatively. He made a low sound in his throat, shifting toward her until she sank down against the pillow. He turned his face away from her mouth to trail kisses over her collarbone, into the dip of her throat, up her neck to her ear. He kissed along her jaw and back up to her lips, and she snaked her hands into his hair while he slowly explored her mouth.

His hands roamed over her shoulders and arms and down to her waist, but nowhere else. She shifted under his warm and gentle touch; the desire in her belly was unfurling slowly, as lazily as he was kissing her, as though they had a lifetime together.

The book slid from his lap and hit the floor with a dull thud, but they barely noticed. He moved, turning to crawl onto the bed. He covered her body for only a moment before settling down beside her, one hand resting on her hip. He tucked her hair back and bent his head, nuzzling beneath her ear with a soft sigh.

“How does the book end?” she asked.

“She falls asleep with her head on his chest,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “That’s how they usually end. Sometimes it’s the other way around.”

She put her hand on his chest and turned her head to look at him. He smiled, searching her eyes. “Maybe you should give me a list of books to read.”

He kissed her smile with his own and said, “The princess and the pirate have a lot of fun, but that’s not my favorite.”

“No? Is there one about a lawyer taming a police captain?”

He laughed, the sound breaking in his throat. “God forbid. No. It’s called _Immortal Silk_.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, kissing her shoulder, “but I think you’ll like it.”

“Will you read it to me? Without skipping the good parts?”

He kissed her jaw. “Mmhm. We can start in the morning.”

“We’ll be sober in the morning.”

“Mmhm,” he repeated, kissing her lips.

She reached up and turned off the lamp, then rolled toward him. She snuggled closer, laying her head on his chest. She let out a breath, relaxing into his heat, and he wrapped his arms around her.

He kissed her head. “Goodnight, Liv,” he murmured.

“Goodnight,” she answered, letting her mind drift to thoughts of the coming morning as her eyes slipped closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations are supposed to be:
> 
> "She slid her hand up his thigh."
> 
> "She kissed her way up his neck to nibble on his earlobe."
> 
> "He turned and ripped open her bodice."


End file.
